


Born Again Demon

by RowdyRaven



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Banishment, Battle, Blood and Violence, Celestial war, Headcanon, Lucifer being an insufferable asshat, Pride, Satan's birth, Self-Mutilation, Siblings, The Fall - Freeform, Violence, War, angel vs demon, michael POV, no seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:27:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26597524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowdyRaven/pseuds/RowdyRaven
Summary: Michael receives word that demons are attacking the orchard on the outskirts of the Celestial Realm. He immediately leaps into action, only to discover that things are not as they seem. A death. A birth. A life-changing experience for a millennia old angel that will change the way he looks at his faith forever.*~Spoilers likely ahead for the plot of Obey Me~*TW// BODILY MUTILATION, VIOLENCE, AND DEATHThis is purely headcanon for what happened during the Celestial War, based on plot points covered in the game.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 25





	Born Again Demon

The peace in the highest towers of the Lord's castle was broken by the screams of frightened young angels, bursting in through the doors of Michael's War Room in a bid to find at least one of the archangels. Michael leaned down to their height, his wings sweeping them close to him to hear their cries. 

"Children, be calm," he soothed as they grappled his robes, tears streaming down their usually beautiful, glowing faces. One buried their face into the side of his chest, staining his pristine white garments with grey blotches.

"What has riled you so?" He reached a hand down to grapple the chin of one of the angels, a girl with long locks twisted into a thick braid. He held his grey eyes with hers as she sniffled and composed herself. 

"Demons, Michael sir, in the orchard. They are fighting with some of the older angels. You have to help them please, sir!" she managed through strangled hiccups. Michael's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and immediately furrowed as his analytical mind started whirring, cogs turning. 

"Thank you children," he uttered, low and serious as he stood. He reopened his wings, releasing the cherubic youngsters from his feathered cocoon. "Please, stay here in safety while I see to the matter. I will send for Barachiel to see to you here." With long, urgent strides Michael made his way down the tower steps. It would be quicker to fly there, but he had things to attend to before he could descend into a battle with demons. It had been a long, long time since the last attack on the Celestial Realm. It was a period of peace, or supposed to be, but small rebel factions would occasionally make an appearance to cause havoc. From the sounds of it, this was something else entirely. As he swept out into the courtyard, snatching a long spear from the weapon rack with his deft right hand, a smaller, aggravated looking archangel caught his attention.

"Uriel," Michael called out, causing the sandy-haired angel to spin round. "I take it you have heard of the situation in the orchard?" Uriel nodded fervently. 

"Yes, I believe Raphael is already there, tending to the wounded. This is no random attack Michael. They sounded like high-ranking demons, possibly even on par with the Demon Prince himself." Michael felt the sweat beading on the back of his neck. Demon Lords.

"No wonder the children were terrified. Come, we must join them before any more blood is shed." Michael took to the sky with a powerful, single flap of his wings. Uriel, with his set of four smaller wings, flew close behind. The orchard was only a short distance from the main castle grounds. The bright red apples fruiting on the branches splashed colour over the green canvas. It was normally such a wonderous sight, but on approach Michael noted that as they flew deeper into the orchard trees were dying, withering, the fruits rotting on their stalks. It seemed to worsen the closer and closer they got to the battleground.

"I've never seen such devastation in the Celestial Realm," Uriel gasped, fury clouding his bright red eyes. "Just who are these monsters we're dealing with?" Michael snorted in response. Sweat now gathered on his forehead at the prospect of war. While he was the strongest of the archangels, he much preferred to be strategizing than battling. There were lower caste angels with better fighting skills than him; Uriel chiefly among them but Lucifer, Mammon, and Beelzebub were all powerful warriors. He hoped they would be among the first responders. As they reached a blackened wasteland, the centre of this ongoing atrocity, Michael hung back to observe. Uriel, true to his spirit, swooped in to attack a short-looking demon with purple hair.

The situation looked dire. Raphael was covered in blood, his hands a sopping mess as he hurried between patients on the outskirts of the battle. The floor was littered with angels, some exhausted, some injured, a few sadly dead. Their wounds varied, from large claw marks across their bodies to scorches and burns from powerful magicks. He tore his eyes from his brethren to survey the assaulters. At best count he could make out six imposing, male figures surrounded by angels. There was something off about this entire situation. The first demon that caught his eye was shrouded in black, from his four raven wings to his curled obsidian horns sprouting from curtains of ebony hair that shrouded much of his face. Michael felt his gaze narrow as he watched him fight, taking hit after hit, and with every one seemingly evolving. One angel came in with a long blade, sweeping it high over his head to bring it down onto the demon. He turned round and grappled the blade with his bare hand, calling out in pain as the blade sliced partway through his palm... and then it stopped. The skin of the demon's hand hardened around the blade, his fingers elongating into terrifying claws as he brought them around the weapon and swung the offending angel with it into the floor. It was upon that demon turning that Michael felt a lump in his throat. He looked so familiar and yet a stranger all at once. Those deep ruby red eyes blazed with such an intense wrath as he stood at the head of the pack, taking the brunt of the angels' defence. Michael took a second, more detailed look at the attackers.

A darker-skinned individual with a series of white markings across his body that matched his untamed snowy locks. A pair of horns curled atop his head. He fought like Uriel, but was less measured in his strikes - greedily taking every inch given to him.

A bright, lilac haired individual with a slim, yet well built body. He preferred to defend himself than go on the offensive. He used a large, serpentine tail to block blades and magic alike.

A stunning combatant who danced among the destruction with grace, expertly wielding magic to keep his distance. Long, strawberry blonde locks flowed over a pair of small, pink-tipped horns. He commanded a spotlight on his gory stage.

Standing side by side were the final two; a large, muscular individual with the wings of a fly and a smaller, purple haired male with a whip-like tail. Uriel was struggling to deal with both of them at once, and neither would fight without the other. They were so in sync with one another that one would think they could read each other's minds.  
That uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach tied his organs into uncomfortable knots. His hands begin to shake as he tightened his grip on his spear. Michael swallowed hard. Why were they here? What did they want?

It was then that Michael caught a glimpse of a final, shivering figure hidden behind the two demons fighting Uriel. A set of small, white wings covered and protected her head. As she opened her eyes to look out at the battlefield, she locked eyes with Michael. A set of tear-filled magenta eyes. He knew them in an instant. Lilith. The fact she was still alive in and of itself was a miracle, not just because she was cowering in the midst of a warzone, but because Father himself had ordered her destruction. Were the demons protecting her? That made no sense; what interest would demons have in her plight? Unless... His eyes flashed back immediately to their leader, standing proud as he caught his breath momentarily. Covered in blood. Sweating profusely. Yet, undeniably beautiful and perfect. That bloody gaze caught his own, and a knowing smile crossed his features. Welcoming almost. Michael felt drawn in, yet he needn't be. The demon-once-angel rose to him on his four large wings, beaten, bruised, but triumphant. Lucifer.

"And Father's right hand has finally arrived," he purred, a voice like silk yet scathing and harsh. "Come to squash the bugs defiling your garden?" He cocked his head as Michael overcame the absolute fear and dread in his heart. 

"Don't make me do this Lucifer," he murmured, as cool as he could. "Cease this madness at once or I will be forced to end you all. Look what you have become!" Lucifer tilted his head upward in disbelief.

"You're sweating," he noted dryly. "Michael, you are smart enough to understand that the true madness here lies squarely with you and the rest of the Virtues. That you would stand by a decision that would see your own SISTER **DESTROYED**." The venom in his words bit in deep. "And then when we would dare to protect one of our own, you would turn on us all. So much for Jegudiel's preaching of kindness and forgiveness. Which of us is the real demon here?" Michael grit his teeth. He thrust the tip of his spear at Lucifer's exposed neck, pressing the weapon lightly against his skin. Lucifer only smirked, as if egging Michael on.

"Your vow is to Father. That is why you... why we were made, Lucifer. His decisions are absolute. As a protector of His realm you are to abide by them. This rebellion of yours," he jabbed the weapon harder against his skin, a bubble of blood forming on the edge of the blade, "this self-serving arrogance and PRIDE is a **SIN**." Michael dropped his arm to his side, lowering the spear. "This is not who you are. How you were meant to use Father's blessings." Lucifer stretched his arms, waving them in the direction of the wings on his back.

"What blessings, Michael? I have returned what I was given," Lucifer hissed. "HIS wings are in the solar if you wish them for yourself." He wrenched his hand against his forehead, his talons raking violently into the skin. He took Michael's free hand, dropping an eye into his palm, before folding his fingers over it for him. "You can return that too if you like. I have no requirement for his gifts." Michael's eyes darted between the eye in his hand and the bleeding hole in Lucifer's forehead. Lucifer watched as the usually calm and straight-laced Michael slowly began to unravel at his inhumanity.

" **DEMON**!" Michael eventually howled, lunging with his spear aimed squarely at Lucifer's chest. Lucifer grappled onto the socket, his hands pressing hard against the wings to hold the blade back. He let out a raucous laugh as the pair plummeted to the ground with the force of Michael's attack. As Michael pinned Lucifer into the scarred earth, he watched in horror as the gaping wound on the latter's forehead solidified into a stone. Angular, dead crystal replaced what was once the gift of foresight. Angry, bitter tears formed in the corners of his eyes, but Michael quickly blinked them away as he pushed down harder on the spear. Lucifer's new found strength aided him in pushing the spear up towards his shoulder as Michael leaned in more and more. The tip dug into Lucifer's pale skin roughly, biting into the soft muscle at the top of his shoulder before making contact with the ground at the side of his head. Lucifer landed a swift retaliatory blow to Michael's leg, destabilising him and allowing the demon to escape his clutches. Using the spear to steady himself back on his feet before snatching it from the earth, Michael squatted into an offensive stance. Lucifer had assumed a similar position, hands splayed, bearing talons and fangs in a furious snarl. He clearly hadn't anticipated Michael's deadly intent. Maybe he had forgotten angels were capable of such a thing. They continued to go toe to toe, spear to hand, wingbeat for wingbeat until...

A call from across the battlefield startled them both.

" _Lilith_!" Belphegor's characteristically high voice screeched. Almost as if in slow motion, Michael watched Lucifer react to his younger brother's cry without hesitation. Beelzebub had pinned Belphegor to the floor to protect him; the only part of him exposed was an outstretched hand. In the direction of that hand, a mortally wounded Lilith. Unlike her elder brothers, Lilith maintained her angelic appearance, which was now marred by spatters of blood. From her chest and wings, several arrows protruded. Similar arrows were also lodged in Beelzebub's back. As Lucifer raced to the aid of his sibling, Michael's attention turned in the opposite direction to see Gabriel commanding a small legion of archers. Gabriel looked down at Michael, squat in the mud, with what only could be described as disappointment. Michael turned back to the demon brothers, noting that the lilac haired brother - Leviathan, Michael now recognised - and the well patterned brother - Mammon, he realised - were standing in defence of the three lying on the floor. Lucifer still had his back to Michael as he ran. Would it be unholy to strike now? It would all be over. One strike is all it would take...

"FIRE!" Gabriel's commanding tone echoed in the silence that had befallen the orchard since Belphegor's cry. He clearly had the same idea. Leviathan and Mammon charged forth to block the incoming arrows and launch a counter on the squadron. Gabriel gave Michael another seething look. He had to go. Now or never. Picking up himself and his spear, Michael launched forward like a bullet. He tucked his wings in until he felt his spear connect with Lucifer's back, spreading them out to produce down force on his weapon. The demon let out a gargled choke as Michael pinned him once more, from behind this time. Despite all he had seen, all that he'd done, all that he had changed, Michael still couldn't bring himself to land a fatal blow on the former angel. He was, after all, still Lucifer. Michael knew that. Warped, twisted, high on pride, but... Lucifer. Michael instead had lodged the spear in the fleshy cavity of his abdomen. It would do some damage, likely enough to form a formidable scar, but more importantly for now, it would keep Lucifer in place. Despite his compromised position, Lucifer continued to reach out to Lilith, who was now on her knees, keeling over to the right as her eyes went from being wide open in shock, to fluttering shut. Blood dribbled down her chin as, in her last waking moments, she managed a smile and a few brief words.

"I'm sorry, my brothers."

As her head hit the ground with a soft puff of dust, a bright light burst forth onto the orchard. Everyone present immediately know who was responsible and what it meant. Father had decided enough was enough. Every remaining angel able to do so downed their weapons and bowed their heads, kneeling in veneration of the light. As the light engulfed the brothers, their forms began to slip through the ground beneath them as if swallowed by quicksand. One by one they slowly disappeared as their falls began. Lucifer managed to grab onto Lilith, knowing he would be the first to go. His body trembled and an anguished cry rattled from his throat. He held her hand with a fierce grip as he succumbed to his fate. Michael couldn't bring himself to look away as Lucifer melted from beneath his weapon's grip and into the abyss awaiting below, taking an unconscious Lilith with him. Mammon was next. Leviathan went with him. Asmodeus, now standing alone on the battlefield, almost slipped away entirely unnoticed. All three faded away without a fight, resigned to their fates. Still clinging to each other, Belphegor screaming and fighting Beelzebub to let go, the twins were the last. With their banishment, the light faded and an eerie silence fell on the rotten orchard, leaving Michael and the other archangels to pick up the pieces. Michael, still holding Lucifer's eye in his left hand, opened it and looked solemnly at one of the last vestiges of one of his greatest charges. 

"You were MY pride Lucifer." 

* * *

His muscles and heart heavy and sore, Michael made the long walk back to the castle grounds, Lucifer's words still ringing in his ears. He couldn't understand why he was so prideful, so wrathful; an angel with so much promise, the Celestial Realm's brightest star. That part, at least, explained why so many of the stronger angels in his caste had chosen to follow him. While Gabriel, Raphael, and Uriel worked to tend to the wounded and reclaim the fallen, Michael knew there was another job that only he could do. What was left of the Lucifer they once knew was still in the solar; powerful artefacts that would need sealed away, along with the eye still hidden in Michael's ever tightening grip. During his journey, Michael thought deeply about what Lucifer had said. They had been protecting Lilith. She had been protecting a human that she had fallen in love with. These emotions, these actions, at their core were as pure as the light that had banished them all. So why, then, was it so wrong? As he heaved the large wooden doors to the gallery open, Michael steeled himself. He wasn't quite sure what to expect going into the solar. All he knew was that he would not like it.

With a deep sigh, he grappled the metal ring door handle and pulled, the oak squealing along the tiled floor as the door opened. Michael was aghast. The walls and the floor were coated in blood, splattered in all directions from a series of what looked like furious swipes. A flurry of feathers spread across the floor like snowfall, some of which fluttered in Michael's direction as the wind sucked them in. However, sitting at the centre of it all was not a set of six torn wings, but a demon. Were it not for the two sweeping horns on the sides of his head, the long, skeletal tail which swished anxiously like a cornered cat, Michael would have thought him an angel. The demon turned his face to him, a look of confusion across his blood-soaked features. A shock of blonde hair, pale, lustrous skin, brilliant seafoam blue eyes that sparkled like the ocean itself. Fangs that glistened in the bright light of the solar as his lips curled up into a snarl. Michael didn't know this one. It seemed that the demon didn't know him either. The feral response and fear knitting his brows tightly together made Michael think he didn't even know HIMSELF.

"I'm not here to hurt you," Michael tried to reason, holding a hand palm out in front of him. "I simply want to reclaim that which belongs to us. And then I can send you home. My brothers would not be as kind." His words did nothing to placate the creature of fury in front of him. So new born was this demon that he didn't even understand language; he had none. Michael felt pity wring his soul. Sensing the change in his emotion, the demon's nose crinkled in distaste. He might not understand words, Michael thought to himself, but he can read my aura like a book. He unsheathed his spear from his back, placing it slowly on the floor, before kneeling with his hands palm up in his lap. As he breathed deeply, he watched the demon contemplate him, trying desperately to understand. After a brief inner turmoil, the demon sat, coiling his tail around himself as some form of comfort. 

"That's good," Michael said softly as he continued his steady, rhythmic breaths. Despite sitting patiently, the demon's nostrils flared with every breath, his eyes blazed with a murderous, hateful fire. But he couldn't let pity consume him, lest he lose all trust with this youngster. He was making headway. Headway that would allow him to conduct a minor banishing ritual to send him back to the Devildom. A ritual which would finally see this whole sordid affair finished. Slowly, a sense of drowsiness seemed to overcome the demon. With each passing breath he calmed, and as he calmed, the adrenaline pumping through his veins abated. In one sudden, uneasy moment, the young demon's head lolled forward, bringing his entire body to the floor with a crash. Feathers billowed into the air. Michael continued to breathe, continued to maintain his guard until he could be sure the beast had passed out. He rose and approached slowly, leaning down to admire the face that was so intent on blindly murdering him. He looked like Lucifer, in a strange way, despite being everything he wasn't. He ran a hand through the long hair on the demon's forehead, slicking his hand with blood as he looked for a pact mark, an identifier. 

  
Roughly etched into the skin on his left shoulder, there it was. A symbol like horns with a spear between them. A single star at the centre of it all. Michael committed the image to memory for future research, though he didn't think its meaning could be any more obvious. This demon was an avatar of wrath, born from the Morningstar. Michael rubbed his hand on his robes as he remained squat at the demon's side, bringing his right hand to his chest, thumb, index and middle fingers raised.

"Oh Heavenly Father, hear my plea. Grant me the power to banish the wickedness before me to the Seven Circles Below. Cleanse this place of the demons that I see. Amen."

A soft, white light engulfed the sleeping fiend, but instead of disappearing through the clouds below he simply blipped out of existence. When such banishment spells are used on the beings they are meant for, that was the intended effect. That was the gentlest way, the angel's way. What had happened to the demon brothers, a harrowing event for all witnessing and involved, was a sad result of their angelic origins. The image of them falling, like meteors to the earth below, flashed briefly in his mind. He could feel the burning on his skin, the fear in his heart, the dizziness in his head. No creature, angel nor demon, deserved such a fate. Michael fell to his knees and cried. Terrible, aching, heaving sobs. After a while alone in his lamentation, he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder as the feathers around him were disturbed by another visitor to the solar.

"How could we let it come to this?" Gabriel murmured, his voice hoarse from shouting commands earlier, from likely doing the same in the recovery effort. "We... I was blind." As the Virtue of Diligence, being detail-oriented was Gabriel's entire purpose. Yet, when it mattered most, he had missed them. The guilt in his voice was harrowing.

"We all were, brother," Michael argued as he raised his head to look once more at the ruin before them. In among the feathers, a familiar, bloodied blade; most likely the one Lucifer had used to mutilate himself. The hilt bore a bright blue gem, now sullied with spatter. Like many other things, this was something else that Michael had given, returned in the most obscene manner. 

"We failed them, Gabriel," Michael sighed. "We gave them everything and it still wasn't enough." Gabriel's hand tightened on his shoulder. Michael turned his head to see his right-hand man fighting back tears of his own. 

"It was in His plan," Gabriel whispered, resolute. "It had to have been. This is our way." That brief, all-encompassing explanation might have been enough for Gabriel, whose tears now flowed freely like rivers as he stared into some unfathomable void. For Michael, it was not.

For the first time in millennia, Michael had doubts.

**Author's Note:**

> Is it obvious I don't write action scenes/fighting very often? It was something I wanted to explore, an idea for that morally grey and dark AF side of the Obey Me story that no one wants to cover in-game (and rightfully so, if it's anything as I've tried to write, lmao)
> 
> Thanks to Vic (@faikitty) for bringing up the idea. I may totally have stolen your Lucifer scar headcanon on his hand, so hope that's alright! (Read their writing as well, it's the bee's knees!)
> 
> Please feel free to leave comments below; as I said, and if you can't tell by my works list, I don't write this stuff often so I hope you enjoyed it! :)


End file.
